


Six Times Tobirama Met Yato

by cyan96



Category: Naruto, ノラガミ | Noragami
Genre: Crossover, Founders Era, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-28 15:36:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13274529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyan96/pseuds/cyan96
Summary: The first time they meet, Tobirama is nine and the god is drunk.Tobirama has little background knowledge on the supernatural. Gods and youkai are outlandish and civilian. What he does have - bedtime tales of woman in fox's clothing and dangerous contracts - explain exactly nothing on why a spirit would choose to kill four Water-nin and then prevent Tobirama from sure death. Is it because he's a child? Do spirits like children? Is capriciousness a characteristic of youkai-kin? No answers are forthcoming.Very belatedly, it occurs to Tobirama the...whatever the man is, might not have killed the Water nin.The thought hadn't presented itself earlier, even though lack of weaponry should have been clue. He has no scroll or pack or even an extra hair-tie, and the Water-nin were killed with a sharp, long edge. No blood from what should have been arterial spray, on man or girl. But the thought of it, that this - man, creature? - doesn't kill, screams wrong from gut-deep instinct, like touching water and saying it's not wet, like saying fire doesn't burn.





	Six Times Tobirama Met Yato

The first time they meet, Tobirama is nine and the god is drunk. 

This is an inference born of observation rather than hard fact. Tobirama doesn't think to ask. He wakes up with the world smearing like a wax drawing, migraine pounding a drumroll from his skull to his teeth in the way only a concussion can bring. Pain registers first: arm, elbow, left ankle -- the bone had been gouged when he was seven and it'd never healed right -- and the entire region of his back. He takes a shaky breath in and smells the distinct copper of fresh blood. At his peripherals, there's the dissipating chakra only the newly dead can bring.

Tobirama is alive: that's unexpected. The four Water-country ninja that'd hounded him from the edge of Wave are not, judging by their chakra. That is even more unexpected, but likely correlates to why Tobirama is alive. 

A third party? 

Whomever they were, they've since left. A sweep brings Tobirama only the signatures of small forest mammals and brush birds, and only at the fringes of his sensory range.

He squints. He's on his back, which is yet another unexplained mystery when he remembers crumpling forward. Blurring vision shows a blue sky and a sun that looks like a blotchy point of light in the east. He remembered it being noon; it is late, now.

But he's alive, and that's a gift he isn't going to look too closely in the mouth, at least not until he's been treated, bandaged and safe in the Senju compound.  It's actually a miracle he hasn't bled out. His back aches fiercely, which means the dratted slash wound he'd received is still there. His head also aches, and head wounds always bleed more than they should. He remembers the crack of his arm clearly enough to be certain of either a fracture or a break. With all those injuries added together, he needs medical attention, and would have liked it maybe two hours ago.

Grimly determined, Tobirama leverages himself up to a sit. His vision statics at its edges, briefly, and then the shock of pain is actually the least of his problems because pressure drops on his shoulder in the form of a hand and a voice says, "I don't think that's a good idea, kid."

Tobirama flinches, violent, itching for a kunai to _stab._

The hand drops.

The man, connected to the hand -- who'd  appeared from absolutely _nowhere_  - makes a small noise.

Tobirama stares at him; the man has no chakra signature   

He's crouching. He's dressed in a navy Yutaka of decent quality, no stains or sign of battle-wear, with the reddish string of a sake gourd tangled in his fingers. He is younger than father and older than Hashirama. He has skin like salt and hair long enough to snap up into a low short ponytail, river eyes, no signs of visible weaponry on his person. This close Tobirama can smell sake on him: sharp and sweet. There's a mish-mash of medical supplies at his side and a bloody sack at his feet.

He has no chakra signature: Tobirama looks at him and could have been looking at a rock. Tobirama would have _noticed_ a rock.

The man waves a hand in front of Tobirama's face. "You okay there?" he asks.

No response. 

"I don't think they break that easily," says a girl. Just like the man she has no chakra at all. There is no smoke or jutsu pop or the customary distraction of a genjutsu to signal her arrival. She is pale too, dressed in white with a black and red obi, arms stippled in Kanji. She reaches out with those pale, kanji stipple arms and Tobirama does his best not to flinch. Her hands are freezing on his face.

She has no chakra; she should be _dead._

Tobirama's mother has told him to be wary of spirits; Tobirama's father does not believe in them.

"I don't think he likes that," says the man (spirit?), slanting the girl (also a spirit?) a reproachful look.

The hands stay. The girl only smiles.

"He's a big boy. He can take it."

"Hiiro," says the man, with exasperated emphasis, and she relents.

Cold lingers though, like a bruise, on the side of Tobirama's cheekbone where the girl had placed her palm. He holds himself very, very still as the girl rocks back on her tabi sandals and drifts to the man's shoulder. Tobirama follows the motion, and then his gaze tracks past the man and sees exactly what had happened to the four Water country ninja.

They're strewn across the scraggly brush-scape  The one closest to him has his head completely decapitated, with the shine of the bone through the bloody flesh. Another has their intestines spilling out, too close for the comfort of Tobirama's nose and smelling very much rank. They'd fallen to lethal, slashing blows.

Tobirama removes his attention from the dead threat to the present one. The spirits are looking at him. Expectant. Tobirama has no idea what is happening. 

So he says, with utmost politeness: "hello."

The girl spirit pouts. The spirit in the form of a man looks inordinately pleased. "So you _do_ talk. I was thinking they'd smacked you over the head too hard. Now, don't move. I put effort into patching you together."

He points a finger, which is when Tobirama realizes that his arm is in fact in a sling. A makeshift one, with a wood pole as a splint and bandages wrapped tightly to keep it in place. He touches his head. No stickiness, just linen cloth. 

Because it's both the socially acceptable and anticipated response, Tobirama says: "Thank you." Belatedly, he wonders if he's actually dead, or maybe the concussion is making him hallucinate. He remembers a cousin being so delirious with fever he'd been talking to purple turtles and a long-dead aunt. This situation seems equally far-fetched, if not as colourful.

If it's not delirium from dying braincells, then. Well. Tobirama has little background knowledge on the supernatural. Gods and youkai are outlandish and civilian. What he does have - bedtime tales of woman in fox's clothing and dangerous contracts - explain exactly nothing on why a random spirit would choose to kill four water nin and then prevent Tobirama from sure death. Is it because he's a child? Do spirits like children? Is capriciousness a characteristic of youkai-kin? Scrambling for buried folklore tales only gives him two pieces of useful information. Don't make contracts. Be polite. And the more Tobirama thinks about it the more the questions tangle: can the two _not_ be spirits? Then what else? Not ninja, certainly. Samurai? Then where is his sword?

Very belatedly, it occurs to Tobirama the...whatever the man is, might not have killed the Water nin. 

The thought hadn't presented itself earlier, even though lack of weaponry should have been clue. He has no scroll or pack or even an extra hair-tie, and the Water-nin were killed with a sharp, long edge. No blood from what should have been arterial spray, on man or girl. But the thought of it, that this - man, creature? - doesn't kill, screams wrong from gut-deep instinct, like touching water and saying it's not wet, like saying fire doesn't burn. 

Spirit. _Spirit_. Don't think too hard. Gut feeling screams dangerous. Facts say chakraless, weaponless, strange. 

And drunk. 

Through the smell of blood and ranker things, the sweet sharpness of rice sake - cheap and strong - permeates. That explains  a lot, if alcohol works the same way it does on spirits as it does on humans. He blinks and the girl spirit disappears. He blinks again, hard, and her image wavers, solidifies, the white Yutaka and doll smile. 

Very carefully, he asks, "Is there anything you would like in return?"

"Nope. I already got all I need," says the spirit cheerfully, which is alarming because Tobirama doesn't remember giving anything away. The spirit reaches into the depths of his Kimono and flicks out a five-ryo coin. That, along with the squashed paper bag full of Nagasaki dumplings Tobirama had been planning on saving. 

Tobirama stares. The drunk theory is gaining leeway. "Will... that be all?" 

The spirit's expression goes offended. "I'm not gonna _cheat_ you."

"I wasn't suggesting you were," Tobirama says. "Just if you wanted more than... five-ryo."

"Five-ryo's a good starting price."

Tobirama looks at him dubiously. 

"It is," the spirit insists. "One wish for five-ryo. I took a guess that you wanted to stay alive."

"... And... them?"

The spirit turns to frown at the bodies of the Water-ninja. "Someone else wanted them dead more."

Tobirama looks at the bag at his feet. It's too small to hold a head, but it's bloody, and... all the corpses have their left ears cut. The spirit follows the glance. Squinting, he says, "oh yeah," and then reaches down to wrap pale fingers around the top of the sack. "Kuchiki or what's his name is going to want these soon."

He pauses, regards Tobirama up and down. Tobirama wonders what he's looking for.

"So... you're not gonna just fall over if I leave?"

"... No."

Blue eyes narrow. "You sure?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Alright," he agrees, finally, and then rises. He's not tall, really, not like some of Tobirama's cousins and uncles. Slight and lean, instead of Senju broad. "Try not to die, kid."

Tobirama doesn't blink, but the spirit and the girl are gone anyway.


End file.
